Cita a las siete en Moncloa, llego a las siete menos cuarto.
Me siento, respiro el humo. Me toca esperar un rato.
Pienso en tu sombra de hembra, en los secretos de tu regazo.
Pienso en lo hermosa que eres, mi princesa, cómo te amo.
En esto que llega un buen tipo, un chorizo navaja en mano.
“Colega enróllate”. Le solté el dinero suelto, me sonrió, y se despidió con un apretón de manos.
Continué pensando en ti, mujer, ¡qué ganas tenía de verte!
Pienso en lo hermosa que eres. Si dices que no, sabes que mientes.
En esto que llegan tres tipos con el cráneo bien rapado.
Uno me insulta, otro se acerca: “Levanta un brazo”, y me comenta: “Saluda o te mato”.
Y yo que no quería ver nada con aquellos tres buenos muchachos,
aprovecho la mínima, hago un corte de manga y me largo.
En esto que iba corriendo, cuando choco con un munipa.
Con su cara garrulo, su gorra, su porra, su inseparable pipa.
“¿Dónde va usted? Enséñeme el carnet”. “Lo olvidé”.
“Me parece colega, te llevas a casa un papel”.
Por fin consigo que el munipa me perdone la vida y llego al lugar de nuestra cita.
Llego a las siete y media, sin esperanzas de verte.
Tú esperabas impaciente, tan hermosa como siempre.
“¿Y dónde te has metido cariño? Llegas media hora tarde”.
“Me entretuve con amigos. Es que, mi vida, Madrid está que arde…”

Translated Version

Appointment at seven in Moncloa, I arrive at a quarter to seven.
I sit down, I breathe the smoke. It's my turn to wait a while.
I think of your female shadow, the secrets of your lap.
I think about how beautiful you are, my princess, how I love you.
In this comes a good guy, a chorizo knife in hand.
"Colleague, get down." I let go of his loose money, he smiled at me, and he said goodbye with a handshake.
I kept thinking about you, woman, how eager I was to see you!
I think about how beautiful you are. If you say no, you know you're lying.
In this three guys arrive with a well-shaved skull.
One insults me, another approaches: "Raise an arm," and says, "Say hello or I'll kill you."
And I didn't want to see anything with those three good boys,
I take advantage of the minimum, I make a sleeve cut and I walk off.
This is what I was running on, when I hit a munipa.
With his garrulo face, his cap, his joint, his inseparable pipe.
"Where are you going? Show me the license." I said, "I forgot."
"I think it's a colleague, you take home a piece of paper."
I finally get the munipa to spare my life and I get to the place of our appointment.
I arrive at seven-thirty, with no hope of seeing you.
You expected impatient, as beautiful as ever.
"And where have you gone, honey? You're half an hour late."
"I entertained with friends. It's just, my life, Madrid is burning..."